


don’t put the blame on her

by AvaMclean



Series: nature always wins [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Family Feels, Gen, Protective Sibilings, Young Dawn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaMclean/pseuds/AvaMclean
Summary: Buffy’s outing with Aiden goes about as well as expected—which wasn’t at all.





	don’t put the blame on her

**Author's Note:**

> Title: don’t put the blame on her  
> Rating: FR13  
> Prompt: copper  
> Disclaimer: BtVS and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. The Walking Dead and all related characters are copyright of Robert Kirkman, Image Comics and AMC. No infringement intended.

Congealed blood made for stiff lashes and Buffy Summers could feel the tacky trails on her cheeks. The borrowed shirt was a lost cause. A once pristine collar now molded to the side of her neck with a tear in the fabric where one of the dead had gotten a little too up close and personal for her comfort. 

Buffy preferred them at arm’s length—all the better for the bashing of heads. 

The blood on her person was theirs, a small comfort that, which meant she stunk of rot and tarnished pennies; it left a bitter copper taste on the roof of her mouth. A few days ago she wouldn’t have noticed, but after her first shower in months she was noticing and the walk back to Alexandria wasn’t helping any. 

Sweat gathered along her spine and in other areas as the asphalt beneath her feet resonated with heat. She’d tried the grass, but the crunch of sticks and rocks drew the dead. Ambient noise was no longer a person’s friend and since Buffy was conserving weapons, and her energy, she stuck to the road. She’d lost a knife in the scuffle the previous day and been unable to find it once the dust and bodies settled. It’d been a good knife—dependable—unlike the two idiots that had led her out into the wilderness. 

Thoughts of Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle (soon to be) Dead and their FUBAR “test run” lengthened Buffy’s stride into a jog. Her shoulder holster beat a rhythmic pattern against her sides as she made a right at the sign pointing her towards “New Homes Starting at $800K” and she kept a steady pace for the next quarter mile as the wall came into view. 

Buffy didn’t slow as she reached the rolling gate and instead leapt. The fence shook under the impact as she scaled the metal rails with her hands. The tarp between the two sections scratched at her fingers until she brought herself up and over. She ignored the shouts and startled looks from those on the other side as she climbed halfway down before dropping the remaining seven feet. 

Crouched low and knife pulled, Buffy saw their hesitation and scanned the inhabitants of Alexandria for threats. The one guard on duty, with dreads and a piss-poor attitude, was the only armed person in close proximity. Buffy rose, switching her knife to her left hand, the one closest to watch-man and kept him in her peripheral. 

The shouts brought more people and the road leading out of Alexandria and the neighboring lawns filled with them. Their clean faces and neat clothes made her itch as Buffy searched their faces until she settled on one. Aiden faltered as recognition dawned and stare at her with wide eyes and a gapping mouth. 

She bared her teeth, the dried blood on her cheeks cracking with the smile. Buffy changed direction, heading towards him. The questions and offers of help from the confused onlookers were ignored. Aiden backpedaled, stumbling to get away and only Deanna’s startled face in the crowd made Buffy hesitate. 

A sigh escaped, jaw thrusting forward in frustration as Buffy flung her knife to the ground—the temptation too much with it in her hand—and it sank into the dirt at Spencer’s feet. Stopping his advancement on her six and Aiden sighed, shoulders dropping in relief now that she was unarmed. 

He really was dumber than he looked. 

Buffy used that idiocy to get closer and his fear turned to concern when he got a good look at her. His eyes may or may not have watered from the stench too, but he still offered her that same smile as the day before. Smarmy with too many teeth. Buffy dropped her smile and cocked her head, watched the concern begin to leak in into his gaze again before she drove a foot into his chest. 

He dropped, breathe coming in painful gasps, but he still meeked out a half-assed apology. “I’m sorry,” another wheeze, “I thought you were dead.” 

“Correction.” Buffy snapped, “You left me for dead.”

“Buffy!” Deanna’s shout turned her rage on her as Spencer caught her left arm. 

Buffy glanced down at his hand on her person before looking. Spencer flinched under her gaze, but held firm. Her brow quirked—at least one of the Monroe children had a bit of spine—before she ignored him to turned back to Deanna. 

She knelt next to her son, but Buffy saw no condemnation in her face when she asked, “What happened?” 

“We were surrounded,” Aiden coughed, “I tried—”

“I wasn’t asking you, Aiden,” Deanna sounded tired even with the bit of steel in her tone as she clarified, “I was asking Buffy.” 

“We were surrounded,” Buffy agreed, “That’s when your son thought I’d make a nummy chew toy distraction while he and his buddy ran away.” 

“That’s not—”

“Aiden!”

“You shoved me!” 

Deanna and Buffy spoke in unison, but Buffy kept going as she clarified. “I told you we could handle it. Keep our heads and stay back to back.” 

“There were too many.” Aiden pushed himself up and onto his feet, only a little unsteady, which Buffy found disappointing, “We should’ve ran.” 

“You did run.” Buffy countered. 

“How many were there?” Deanna questioned from her place still on the grass, sounding tired. 

“Twenty,” Aiden coughed again, “at least.” 

“Twelve,” Buffy corrected, “If that. Dawn and me have gone against worst odds. And she is a hell of a lot smaller than you!” Spencer’s grip on her arm tightened, distracting her from the cowardice of his brother. “Let go before I make you let go.”

There was no threat in her tone, merely a statement of fact, and that bit of spine disappeared as Spencer did as ordered. Buffy stared at him until he retreated into the crowd before turning back to Aiden. His gaze was flitting around the crowd surrounding them as his tough as nails image became tarnished. 

“BUFFY!” 

The hairs along the back of her neck rose with Dawn’s shriek and Buffy spun to see Aaron pushing his way through the crowd to make a path for her frantic sister. Buffy frowned at the sight and turned back to the Aiden. “You told Dawn I was dead?” 

Unlike before the threat was clear in her tone and Buffy didn’t hesitate to drive her fist into Aiden’s jaw. She pulled the punch, much like the kick, for Deanna’s sake. Aiden hit the grass once more, but she’d admit that the sight of him spitting out something hard and vaguely tooth shaped gave her some satisfaction. 

Dawn buried herself against her front distracting her from all other things. Buffy caught her under the arms and lifted, bring her up easily and Dawn tucked a damp face against her neck as Buffy turned to Aaron and asked, “Can we go home?” 

“Of course,” Deanna stood, brushing her hands along the bottom of her slacks and casting a doubtful look towards her son. Her mouth thinned before she looked at Buffy, “I’ll come by this evening to check on you.” 

Dawn’s arms tightened around her neck, cutting off the instant retort that might’ve ruined their place in the community and with Aaron and Eric. Buffy exhaled and agreed, “See you then.” 

Aaron reached out, but then seemed to think better of it and instead turned to part the crowd for them. Buffy followed his lead and through the streets and ignored the stares from people who were entirely too childlike to live. 

“You called it home.” 

Dawn’s careful whisper against her neck had Buffy adjusting her sister so she was on her hip. Dawn’s legs were getting too long for that, but she didn’t protest as Buffy looked up at her. “It’s close enough.” 

“I don’t like Aiden.” Warm fingers traced one of the trails of blood and the serious set to Dawn’s jaw made Buffy uneasy. The littlest Summers tended to hold grudges and if Buffy wasn’t allowed to get them kicked out for snapping at Deanna then Dawn wasn’t allowed to do it by attacking Aiden. 

“I don’t either,” Buffy agreed, “But he’s my problem.” 

Blue eyes narrowed, studying her face before Dawn dropped her chin into a nod, “But if he hurts you again he’s mine.” 

“Ours,” Aaron countered from his place in front of them. Buffy stopped when he did and the sisters looked up at him. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.” 

She was starting to get why Dawn liked Aaron; he wasn’t the best fighter, but there was hope for him. 

“Now let’s get home,” He directed the next bit to Buffy, “So you can shower. You stink.” 

She might also kill him in his sleep.


End file.
